


counterweight to the stars

by elleinstead



Series: Bad Days [2]
Category: Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (2012)
Genre: BAMF Nick Fury, Frustration, Gen, Post Avengers (Movie), Workplace
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-27
Updated: 2013-03-27
Packaged: 2017-12-06 15:25:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/737206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elleinstead/pseuds/elleinstead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a meeting with the Council, Fury isn't so happy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	counterweight to the stars

Fury opens a bottle of whiskey and sits down in his office. He doesn't bother pouring it into a glass. Since he's always on the clock, it's not going anywhere so why bother; he just likes the smell of it. He doesn't usually sit at his desk smelling booze, but he's earned it with the day he's had. 

Fury's frustrated. Here he is trying to protect the world and everyone's decided that today would be a good day to express their stupid ass opinions about AIM's "true goals". Opinions that he never asked for and certainly doesn't need.

Whenever he tries to lead, there's always a pushback. Always a pointed jab at his decision. The Council always tries to find ways to go against him.

Fury knows that a big part of that pushback is his race. It's scary enough for them to have a black man for a President. But to have a black man in charge of protecting the whole world? And a black man who won't take their shit? he knows that they're ready to wet their pants. 

He shifts back into his chair, letting it carry his weight fully. His body aches enough, without him adding onto it. There's nothing he can do right now against old injuries, but it'd be dumb as hell to make them hurt worse. He's not a masochist like Stark.

He knows that if he fails just once, they'll try to get rid of him and find some puppet to replace him. Someone who'll listen to every asinine thing that comes out of their mouth. The earth will be gone in a week in their trigger happy hands.

Well, he's not going to let that happen. He doesn't care what he has to do, there is no way anyone is taking his position. He knows he's earned it. And he's going to keep earning it, no matter what they think.

Fury reaches for the bottle cap, puts it back on and places it in the usual cabinet. He holds a hand up to his ear and speaks.

"Hill, contact the Avengers. Tell them we got a lead on where AIM might strike next and they need to get ready."

"Sir, should I inform them of the location as well or is that too classified?" Hill's voice comes out dry. She's aware of how his day has gone.

"Yeah, tell them it's Munich," he grins, knowing her response.

"Again? They don't seem to understand how these things work." 

"Tell the Avengers to be ready to go in thirty minutes. And if Stark complains about the time, tell him that we know he wasn't planning on sleeping tonight anyway," he says as he rises from his seat. "Oh, and Hill, tell our agents in Munich to get in position before the Avengers arrive. I want them to completely destroy AIM and make them wish they'd become sewage workers instead of criminals." 

"Of course, Sir."

The connection ends and Fury walks out of his office. The Council can go fuck itself. He has to go back to work.

**Author's Note:**

> Title is from the poem "Islands" by Yusef Komunyakaa.


End file.
